Will had once called you a ‘pretty little psycho’. Hannibal couldn't agree more.

You were a wanted serial killer, insane and psychopathic, and possibly the most interesting bag of contradictions Hannibal had seen.

Hannibal was one for order. Neatness. Everything had its place. You were the opposite. Chaos seemed to follow you like a lost puppy, and you seemed to follow him as one too.

Letters, calls, and gifts in the mail or his office. He received it all. He enjoyed every bit of it. Will was observant, but not observant enough to see the true reason why you were so obsessed with Hannibal. He simply thought it was because of your past with him as a psychiatrist, not because you knew his dirty secret.

But of course, Hannibal knew. The letters are detailed enough. He could sense your presence everywhere- yet he wasn't sure if that was more of a placebo effect. He thought you were everywhere. Or perhaps he hoped.

Hannibal arrived at his house a bit later than usual. It was dark, and quiet, with a taste of uneasiness in the air only Hannibal would recognize as you.